Lord Randall

Collected by
Mary Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
Frances Freeman
Little Rock, Ark.
July, 1954
Reel 201, Item 2
Lord Randall
("I was just about fifteen years old on a deer
hunt with my father between Elaine, Arkansas, and the
White River levee [when I learned this] ....It was an old
white man who lived somewhere near Elaine; he was sitting
around the camp fire on this deer hunt with us.)
Oh, where have you been, Lord Randall, my son?
Oh, where have you been, my pretty one?
I've been to my sweetheart's, Mother,
I've been to my sweetheart's, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what did she feed you, Lord Randall, my son?
And what did she feed you, my pretty one?
On eels and lizards, Mother,
On eels and lizards, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what was the color of them, Lord Randall, my son?
And what was the color of them, my pretty one?
All spickled and spackled, Mother,
All spickled and spackled, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what will you leave to your mother, my son?
And what will you leave to her, my pretty one?
My hall and my honor, Mother,
My hall and my honor, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
Reel 201, Item 2, con't
And what will you leave to your children, my son?
What will you leave to them, my pretty one?
My hounds and my horses, Mother,
My hounds and my horses, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what will you leave to your wife, my son?
What will you leave to her, my pretty one?
I'll leave her on the town, Mother,
I'll leave her on the town, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what will you leave to your sweetheart, my son?
What will you leave to her, my pretty one?
A rope from hell to hang her,
A rope from hell to hang her,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.

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Collected by
Mary Celestia Parler;
Transcribed by
Neil Byer
Frances Freeman
Little Rock, Ark.
July, 1954
Reel 201, Item 2
Lord Randall
("I was just about fifteen years old on a deer
hunt with my father between Elaine, Arkansas, and the
White River levee [when I learned this] ....It was an old
white man who lived somewhere near Elaine; he was sitting
around the camp fire on this deer hunt with us.)
Oh, where have you been, Lord Randall, my son?
Oh, where have you been, my pretty one?
I've been to my sweetheart's, Mother,
I've been to my sweetheart's, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what did she feed you, Lord Randall, my son?
And what did she feed you, my pretty one?
On eels and lizards, Mother,
On eels and lizards, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what was the color of them, Lord Randall, my son?
And what was the color of them, my pretty one?
All spickled and spackled, Mother,
All spickled and spackled, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what will you leave to your mother, my son?
And what will you leave to her, my pretty one?
My hall and my honor, Mother,
My hall and my honor, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
Reel 201, Item 2, con't
And what will you leave to your children, my son?
What will you leave to them, my pretty one?
My hounds and my horses, Mother,
My hounds and my horses, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what will you leave to your wife, my son?
What will you leave to her, my pretty one?
I'll leave her on the town, Mother,
I'll leave her on the town, Mother,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.
And what will you leave to your sweetheart, my son?
What will you leave to her, my pretty one?
A rope from hell to hang her,
A rope from hell to hang her,
Go make my bed soon
For I'm sick to the heart
And fain would lay doon.